Part 15 (1/2)
The weight of this bear, which was not of the largest size, was afterwards found to be above five hundred pounds, and her length was eight feet nine inches. The cub weighed upwards of a hundred pounds, and was larger than a Newfoundland dog.
The operation of cutting out the entrails, preparatory to packing on the sledge, was now commenced by Meetuck, whose practised hand applied the knife with the skill, though not with the delicacy, of a surgeon.
”She has been a hungry bear, it seems,” remarked Fred, as he watched the progress of the work, ”if we may judge from the emptiness of her stomach.”
”Och! but she's had a choice morsel, if it was a small wan,” exclaimed O'Riley in surprise, as he picked up a plug of tobacco. On further examination being made, it was found that this bear had dined on raisins, tobacco, pork, and adhesive plaster! Such an extraordinary mixture of articles, of course, led the party to conclude that either she had helped herself to the stores of the _Dolphin_ placed on Store Island, or that she had fallen in with those of some other vessel. This subject afforded food for thought and conversation during the next hour or two, as they drove towards the s.h.i.+p along the ice-belt of the sh.o.r.e.
The ice-belt referred to is a zone of ice which extends along the sh.o.r.e from the unknown regions of the North. To the south it breaks up in summer and disappears altogether, but in the lat.i.tude which our travellers had now reached, it was a permanent feature of the scenery all the year round, following the curvatures and indentations of bays and rivers, and increasing in winter or diminis.h.i.+ng in summer, but never melting entirely away. The surface of this ice-belt was covered with immense ma.s.ses of rock many tons in weight, which had fallen from the cliffs above. Pointing to one of these as they drove along, West remarked to Fred,--
”There is a mystery explained, sir. I have often wondered how huge, solitary stones, that no machinery of man's making could lift, have come to be placed on sandy sh.o.r.es where there were no other rocks of any kind within many miles of them. The ice must have done it, I see.”
”True, West. The ice, if it could speak, would explain many things that now seem to us mysterious; and yonder goes a big rock on a journey that may perhaps terminate at a thousand miles to the south of this.”
The rock referred to was a large ma.s.s that became detached from the cliffs and fell, as he spoke, with a tremendous crash upon the ice-belt, along which it rolled for fifty yards. There it would lie all winter, and in spring the ma.s.s of ice to which it was attached would probably break off and float away with it to the south, gradually melting until it allowed the rock to sink to the bottom of the sea, or depositing it, perchance, on some distant sh.o.r.e, where such rocks are not wont to lie--there to remain an object of speculation and wonderment to the unlearned of all future ages.
Some of the bergs close to which they pa.s.sed on the journey were very fantastically formed, and many of them were more than a mile long, with clear, blue, gla.s.sy surfaces, indicating that they had been but recently thrown off from the great glacier of the North. Between two of these they drove for some time, before they found that they were going into a sort of blind alley.
”Sure the road's gittin' narrower,” observed O'Riley, as he glanced up at the blue walls, which rose perpendicularly to a height of sixty feet on either hand. ”Have a care, Meetuck, or ye'll jam us up, ye will.”
”'Tis a pity we left the ice-belt,” remarked Fred, ”for this rough work among the bergs is bad for man and dog. How say you, Meetuck--shall we take to it again when we get through this place?”
”Faix, then, we'll nive'r git through,” said O'Riley, pointing to the end of the chasm, where a third iceberg had entirely closed the opening.
The Esquimau pulled up, and after advancing on foot a short way to examine, returned with a rueful expression on his countenance.
”Ha! no pa.s.sage, I suppose?” said Fred.
”Bad luck to ye!” cried O'Riley, ”won't ye spaak?”
”No rod--muss go bock,” replied Meetuck, turning the dogs in the direction whence they had come, and resuming his place on the sledge.
The party had to retrace their steps half-a-mile in consequence of this unfortunate interruption, and return to the level track of the ice-belt, which they had left for a time and taken to the sea-ice, in order to avoid the sinuosities of the land. To add to their misfortunes, the dogs began to flag, so that they were obliged to walk behind the sledge at a slow pace, and snow began to fall heavily. But they pressed forward manfully, and having regained the sh.o.r.e-ice, continued to make their way northward towards the s.h.i.+p, which was now spoken of by the endearing name of home.
CHAPTER XIV.
_Departure of the sun--Effects of darkness on dogs--Winter arrangements in the interior of the ”Dolphin.”_
It is sad to part with an old friend, especially if he be one of the oldest and best friends we ever had. When the day of departure arrives, it is of no avail that he tells us kindly he will come back again. That a.s.surance is indeed a comfort after he is gone, and a sweet star of hope that s.h.i.+nes brighter and brighter each day until he comes back; but it is poor consolation to us at the time of parting, when we are squeezing his hand for the last time, and trying to crush back the drops that _will_ overflow.
The crew of the _Dolphin_ had, in the course of that winter, to part with one of their best friends; one whom they regarded with the most devoted attachment; one who was not expected to return again till the following spring, and one, therefore, whom some of them might, perhaps, never see again.
Mivins became quite low-spirited about it, and said ”as 'ow 'e'd 'ave a 'eavy 'eart for _h_ever and _h_ever, _h_amen,” after he was gone.
O'Riley remarked, in reference to his departure, that every man in the s.h.i.+p was about to lose a _son_! Yes, indeed he did; he perpetrated that atrocious pun, and wasn't a bit ashamed of it. O'Riley had perpetrated many a worse pun than that before; it's to be hoped for the credit of his country he has perpetrated a few better ones since!
Yes, the period at length arrived when the great source of light and heat was about to withdraw his face from these Arctic navigators for a long, long time, and leave them in unvarying night. It was a good while, however, before he went away altogether, and for many weeks after winter set in in all its intensity, he paid them a daily visit which grew gradually shorter and shorter, until that sad evening in which he finally bade them farewell.
About the middle of October the dark months overspread the Bay of Mercy, and the reign of perpetual night began. There was something terribly depressing at first in this uninterrupted gloom, and for some time after the sun ceased to show his disk above the horizon the men of the _Dolphin_ used to come on deck at noon, and look out for the faint streak of light that indicated the presence of the life-giving luminary with all the earnestness and longing of Eastern fire-wors.h.i.+ppers.
The dogs, too, became sensibly affected by the continued absence of light, and seemed to draw more sympathetically than ever to their human companions in banishment. A curious and touching instance of this feeling was exhibited when the pack were sent to sleep on Store Island.